


matters of the heart

by orphan_account



Series: post-pacifist route [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Puns, Baking, Cliche, Domestic Fluff, Frisk loves to write, Multi, Non-Binary Frisk, Post-Pacifist Route, that interpretation is up to you, the frisk/sans is either friends to lovers or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5199416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The four times that Sans and Frisk are caught doing romantically domestic things and the one time that they don't even have to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	matters of the heart

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to see how many cliches I could fit in one fic. I fit like five.
> 
> Though this can be viewed as platonically or friends-to-lovers, there are some really shippy lines in this so fair warning
> 
> This is going to become a series! leave prompts if you wish because I will surely want them!
> 
> Please enjoy this fic and tell me how you liked it!
> 
> (Sign language translations + other terms in end notes.)

You spend almost all of your time at Sans' and Papyrus' house. You spend the nights and mornings at Toriel's, and most afternoons you spend with Undyne and/or Alphys, and Asgore will often take you to some baseball game or the like, but every moment where you're not there, you're at the two brothers' house. They're all your family, and you love it.

Sans, however, is not only your family, but your best friend. Anyone can see that, you think. You do spend a lot of time with him.

You're baking cookies for the brothers, making Sans in charge of preheating the oven and buttering the pan while you mix the bowl. Papyrus is out doing whatever he does but will be home soon.

"i can't believe you make your own cookie dough," Sans says in disbelief. "that's so much work. i eat  _so_ much of that store-bought dough - _dough_ much of it, frisk - even though the packaging says not to. screw that, i'm a skeleton!"

You laugh, flicking a piece of dough that caught onto your fingers at his face. He swipes it off of his cheekbone and licks it. "wow, that's . . . good. can you make more of this, and like, not bake it? i will eat this out of the bowl for the rest of my existence."

"You'll get salmonella," you say.

"i'm a pile of bones," he responds, and you snort. He hands you the buttered pan and you start plopping down circles of dough, making sure they're far enough apart so they won't stick together.

"you're good at this," he says. "you should become a chef."

You want to sign, but your hands are busy with the dough, so you speak. "I had to do a lot of baking and cooking myself growing up," you say. "I've got a knack for it."

He hums, the same way he does whenever you bring up anything before you fell into the Underworld. Sans doesn't seem like he's going to speak, though, so you turn and crouch to put the cookies in the oven. Once you're satisfied that they're not gonna explode, you stand up and - oh, shit - you slip. You catch a glimpse of the ground to see what you slipped on, and how the  _hell_ did Sans get butter on the floor? It's supposed to be in the pan, dammit. He catches you before you get to the ground but it's a close call. You're looking up at him, half-dazed, and he's still grinning that fucking grin that he always is.  _Aw, I have such a great best friend,_ you think. _  
_

Sans' mouth opens like he's about to speak, and you can tell by the way his lip quirks up that he's about to tell a pun, but then the front door is opening and you're both too surprised to either move or say dumb jokes to each other. In comes Papyrus, chin up like always. "SANS! FAVORITE HUMAN! I HAVE A REQUEST TO MAKE OF YOU," he shouts, before he turns his head and sees you in the position that you two are in. "OH," he says, voice laced with surprise. "OH, DEAR HUMAN, I SEE YOU FINALLY HAVE MOVED ON FROM ME. THAT IS . . . WONDERFUL! IT WAS SO WEIRD HAVING YOU OVER ALL OF THE TIME KNOWING THAT YOU HAD THESE UNDYING FEELINGS FOR ME. BUT I, PAPYRUS, HAVE SUCCEEDED IN HELPING YOU MOVE ON FROM MY GREATNESS! THIS WAS A SUCCESS!"

"Yeah," you say, because you don't know what else you can. "Good job, buddy." You don't realize that you haven't denied the fact that he thinks you and Sans are together until after you're done speaking. This is the time when Sans  _finally_ decides to scoop you back up to your feet.

Papyrus goes up the stairs, before pausing half-way and looking down to smile at his brother and best human friend. "CAN WE STILL PLAY CHUTES AND LADDERS LATER?" He asks. "I ALMOST WON LAST TIME!"

"sure, pap," sans says. "but you probably shouldn't be  _stair_ ing, you know that frisk gets shy."

Papyrus shouts at his brother the whole way up to his room.

* * *

You call Sans the next afternoon. You're free because Undyne and Alphys are having a day to themselves, so you've been helping Toriel grade some papers and been making sure that she takes care of herself.

"hey pal," he says. "what's up?"

"You know that deal I have with my drama teacher?" Your drama teacher had told you that if you accepted the job of being one of the four leads in the school play, that she would personally invite her close friend, who just so happens to be your favorite author of all time, to the show. She even said that you two could talk afterwards for longer than the brief "Congratulations on your performance!" She knows that you're shy, but she also know that you are one of the best writers that the school has ever had.

"i sure do," he says. "why? want me to join up? sorry, i don't think i could get my  _act_ together soon enough for the play."

A beat passes. "I hate you," you say.

"you love me."

"Um, the reason I was calling is because I need someone to run lines with so I won't make people fall behind tomorrow. You free?"

"sure. need me to bring anything?"

"Nah, we're good. Have a safe trip over."

"alright."

You hang up the phone.

He's here within an hour. You worry over him the same way you do whenever you have guests over, always making sure that you're not a horrible host. (You get anxious over things like this sometimes, but you can't help it.) You printed out a copy of your script for him right after the call, so you hand it to him now. He flips through the pages. "you're jennifer, right? eighty lines isn't bad for a lead at all. you should see some of the plays that i was skimming through at the library last month."

"Yeah, I'm Jennifer." Your teacher had asked if you wanted a male or female role, and you had responded saying "whichever has the least lines." "There are a few scenes with Corey that I need the most help with."

"got it. he the love interest?"

You shake your head. "Nah, we hate each other but have to work together. I don't have a love interest."

"damn."

He flips through the scenes that you dog-eared, stopping momentarily to read through some lines. He pauses the longest in the middle of the packet, reading. "i like this one. you seem badass. page forty-five." You flip to it, and blush a bit when you realize what scene he is looking at. The two characters are at a ball, and Jennifer and Corey scheme as they dance. The play takes place in the early 1900's, but is very simplified and modernized so it can be easily used for comedic and high school purposes.

"Alright. I'll start." You clear your throat. "Corey, be a doll and dance with me. We have something to discuss."

"you want to dance with me, jenn? i was a bit  _busy,_ you know."

"Do I care?"

"ah, well, i suppose it was too much to hope for that you would have some emotion. alright, we will dance." Sans switches his script to his left hand and places his right hand on your waist. You take a breath so you won't turn red, and assume that this is for the best. Hesitantly, you bring your arms up around his neck so your script is able to be read next to his head.

"We need to talk about the situation. We can't go on avoiding this. You know that once  _she_ finds out, we'll die! I mean,  _I'll die._ That's more important."

"gee, thanks. oh, here - she's coming. pretend that I've said something hilarious." You begin to laugh in-character.

"Frisk!" Toriel calls, opening the door. You hadn't thought that she was home, and in that surprise, you drop your script. "What do you want me to make for - oh," she says, eyeing Sans. His script is dangling next to your side, and even though it's in Toriel's line of sight you're not sure that she can see it. You know how this looks, of course you do. Toriel, though she has probably never expected to see this, gains composure quickly. "Hi, Sans! Are you staying for dinner?"

Sans' facial expression doesn't change in the slightest. "if that's alright with you, toriel. thank you."

"Oh, well, I'll just leave you kids to it, then," she says. You can see her reaching for her phone as she leaves.

"Oh dear," you say.

"that's not your line."

(You nail every line in the play, but you can't help but wish it was Sans up there with you.)

* * *

Alphys' and Undyne's wedding is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. You cry, Toriel cries, Undyne, Alphys and Papyrus cry. Sans laughs at all of you crying. 

The wedding itself is the tearjerker. You hadn't even realized that monster weddings were so alike to human ones. The vows were touching ("I vow to put up with you even when you would rather watch anime than kiss me," and "I vow to be by your side when you win every race, every contest,") and they both look stunning. Toriel says a comment about not being ready for when it will be your turn, and you double take. You've never dated, kissed, hell, you've never even really thought about someone romantically.

The reception is  _amazing._ The only wedding you've ever been to was when you were six, so you weren't allowed to go to the reception, but at this point you guess that your mental age can surpass all of your friends at some points, so you're allowed in. Some of the monsters are getting tipsy, and Undyne whispers in your ear that the bartender doesn't card. You don't really want to drink, though, because Mom is here and you don't want her to be disappointed.

However, before anybody can get too drunk, the wedding cake gets wheeled out. It's  _beautiful._ You almost want to get married just for the cake. It's three tiers and has pretty piping, and there are two mini statues that look  _just_ like Alphys and Undyne. You wonder how they even got them.

You eat the cake across from Sans, with Undyne, Alphys, and Papyrus surrounding you. They're all engrossed in some conversation that you don't know how to contribute to, so you stay out of it. You scoop a forkful that is mostly frosting and shove it in your mouth, and it tastes _so good._  

You get Sans' attention so you can talk to him, but one look at you and he laughs.  _What?_ you sign.

"you've got a little something there," he says, gesturing to his right cheek. You copy his movement, smearing your cheek in hopes of getting it off. When he sees the result, he just laughs harder. "you made it  _worse._ here," he explains, and bring his finger to remove the frosting from your face. You feel a little awestruck as he does so, but then he leans back and he has white frosting on his bony finger. You watch as he brings it to his mouth and licks it off, raising an eyebrow at his antics.

Undyne clears her throat from next to Sans, and you turn to her. She looks confused. "I saw that."

"you've probably seen a lot of things today," Sans says. "i mean, it's been such an emotional wedding, even the cake is in tiers."

You and Undyne groan at the same time. But you don't miss the way that she keeps an eye on you.

* * *

 "You have to," you say, holding three DVDs in your hand.  He narrows his eyes at them.

"no, i don't. is this some sort of surfacer initiation? because those movies look like they were filmed on a four dollar camera in a backyard," Sans says, frowning. You throw the Harry Potter disk at his face. Toriel is on a one-night school trip with her class to the state capital, so you were allowed to have Sans over for the night. Papyrus had been invited as well, and had been excited to go, but he had to work overtime for the first time.

"Nuh-uh, no, these movies are the best  _ever._ Everybody loves them. Please! We only have to watch one, then we can do whatever you want."

"hmm," he says. "okay." He pats the spot next to him on the couch and you crawl in next to him. He takes the blanket that's around his knees and spreads it over both of you as the previews start to play.

You fall asleep before you even get to the good part.

-

You wake up and your head is on Sans' shoulder. His left hand is rubbing patterns into your upper back, which is the only thing that shows you that he is awake. You sit up properly, and Sans turns to you. "hey, kiddo," he says, voice scratchy. "you know, I have a question for you."

"Hmm?"

"you sleep so much, do you ever . . . get tired of it?"

"That was horrible."

"yeah, heh, yeah, it was."

A hesitation.

"oh, kid, it's only three in the morning. go back to bed."

You do.

-

"Oh! H-hey Sans! I don't know why I'm s-surprised to see you here! Um, I borrowed this DVD from Frisk, but I see that they're sleeping, so, I'll just put it here, yeah?"

"alright, alphys. you have a good morning!"

"Yeah, oh, um, I have to ask, does, ah, Toriel know you're here?"

"yeah, i'm the one watching after frisk while she's away, anyway."

"Oh, I guess I just . . . you too look very . . ."

"hah, i know, doc. don't worry about it."

You can practically  _hear_ her blushing as the front door shuts. You open your eyes the second it does and startle at how close Sans' face is to yours.

"i knew you were awake," he says, grinning. "were you shy, buddy?"

 _Stop_ , you sign in a weak protest, moving to a sitting position. Well, you  _try_ to sign it, anyway, but you find that your right hand has been intertwined with Sans' boney fingers.

"Wha -" you try to shake your hand out, but his grip gets tighter. You narrow your eyes. "Sans."

"frisk."

"I can't make pancakes if I'm holding your hand,  _bucko._ "

His hand leaves yours.

(You don't even realize that your handholding was what Alphys was staring at until later.)

* * *

 

**from: undyne**

_Meet us at my place. Bring Sans._

You're in the middle of chatting with the skeleton in question at his home when you get the text. Papyrus is nowhere to be found, having mumbled about "important, no-brother-or-frisk business" before leaving earlier that day. Toriel was working, Alphys and Undyne were on what was assumingly a date - which, wait, why did Undyne text you?

 _Look at this,_ you sign, and hand him your phone for you to read the text. He scrunches his nose up makes a humming sound, before his grin becomes a bit wider. "i figured this was gonna happen eventually. c'mon, kid, let's go to undyne's. you might want to bring a weapon."

You smile, noting the joke but secretly wanting to bring up how you didn't get this far by fighting. But then he might bring up Chara and, oh, you really didn't want to deal with that.

You head out the door, and Sans gestures to his motor bike. You shift uncomfortably. "Do I - "

"it's this or walk three miles." You bring your index fingers down your cheeks repeatedly and almost sarcastically, which makes him laugh. He hands you his jacket for "protection against the wind" and you slip onto the bike behind him, wrapping both of your arms around his waist and holding tightly.

"don't let go."

"I'm not an  _idiot,_ Sans."

There are three cars in the driveway, including Undyne's. You recognize Alphys' and Papyrus' as the other two. "What's going on?" You ask, mainly to yourself but also to Sans, who seems to have an idea of what's happening while you are utterly clueless.

"at least tori's not here," he says. "if she was here, then i would be dead."

 _What?_ , you sign, but he's not even paying attention.

The door opens. Undyne is wearing a suit, grinning at the both of you. "Hello, Mr. Sans, Mx. Frisk," she says, her voice taking on a professional outlook. Sans has gone from knowing to utterly confused in seconds. "May I escort you inside?"

"What."

"what."

"Right this way, then."

-

Papyrus grins the second he sees the two of you. Alphys smiles shyly and Undyne just looks sheepish, the role she played just moments ago completely gone.

"You kids can cut the act, now," Undyne says. "We know what's been going on, and, well, we're sorry, punks."

"W-we didn't realize that we  . . . we were giving the impression that i-it was a bad idea to, um, date . . . publicly," Alphys stutters, voice wavering in volume and pitch. "But we just want you know that, we, uh, we totally support you guys!"

This is, finally, the moment you realize what's been going on. You think of Papyrus in the kitchen, Toriel walking in on you dancing, Undyne at the wedding and Alphys with the handholding - shit.  _Shit._ They think you're dating. You don't know whether to laugh or cry.

"WE LOVE BOTH OF YOU," Papyrus says. "OF COURSE, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYBODY ELSE, BUT THAT IS JUST BECAUSE I AM THE BEST. THEY ALL LOVE YOU TOO, JUST NOT AS MUCH."

Sans grins, and his eyes crinkle in a way that remind you of a blushing smile. "thanks, dudes, it means a lot."

 _What?_ It wasn't like the two of you were actually dating. He was just yanking their chains, right?

"To make it up to you, we, ah, set something up!" Alphys says, pointing to the living room door, which is closed. "We, um, well, maybe you should just see yourselves."

Undyne opens the door. You feel every word that you could possibly say die from your mouth. Inside the living room is a table with a red cloth covering it, completed with candles and a seemingly homemade dinner on the table. Instinctively, you make two fists and point behind both of your shoulders.  Before either of you can react, Alphys makes a comment about giving you two space and she hurries out of the room, and Undyne follows. Papyrus says that he's going home and leaves with a wink.

"this is so exciting, isn't it, datemate?" Sans says. He pulls out one of the chairs for you, and you sit awkwardly, since usually when he directs you to a seat it's because there's a whoopee cushion on it. There's none. He sits across from you, and you watch as he exaggerates putting his napkin on his lap.

"Were you expecting this?" You ask.

"of course not, enbyfriend. i thought my ass was gonna get whooped, not being treated to a romantic dinner."

Huh.

"Why would you get your ass whooped?"

"lovely food. do you think undyne or alphys made it?"

"Surely not Pap."

"you're so clever, sweetie."

A pause. Sans shoves food in his mouth, and all of a sudden you're hit with love for this guy. He's your best friend, who's always been there for you, and loved you, and fought for you. There's some sort of sauce on his chin, and you're looking at him with such admiration that you're waiting for him to make a comment. He doesn't.

"i thought they were gonna beat me up for, like, dating you, obviously. they think we've been dating for a long time. as was shown."

Huh x2.

"Well, who cares what they think?" You say. "You and I both know where we are, right?" You're not even sure of that yourself.

"er, not really. care to elaborate?"

So you tell him.

  
 

**Author's Note:**

> "You bring your index fingers down your cheeks repeatedly and almost sarcastically" This means "cry". (Probably pretty obvs.)  
> "Instinctively, you make two fists and point behind both of your shoulders." This means "overwhelm".  
> "Of course not, enbyfriend . . ." Definition: Enbyfriend; queer, based on boyfriend and girfriend. (note: enby comes from NB, non-binary)
> 
> -
> 
> I know a lot of it is very shippy but I did want to have their official status to be open. I wanted the last bit to be an open ending where you decide what Frisk tells him. sorry for lack of puns :'(
> 
> 12/01/15 EDIT: i didnt realize that i made a mistake with the sign language in the second to last section, but its all fixed now so we can pretend it never existed ok


End file.
